Inside, theyre crying

Latvians may be a melancholic lot, but Claire Prentice is happy to find that life flourishes amid the faded grandeur of Riga  unless youre a Russian

‘We are sentimental people and perhaps a bit melancholic,” says my tour guide, Monika. It doesn’t sound like a great advert for a confident capital city, but since the fall of communism Riga has transformed itself beyond recognition.

I am visiting Meza Kapi, a sprawling cemetery just outside the city centre, to gain an insight into Latvian culture. Monika indicates the Russian and Latvian sections of the graveyard and insists, despite evidence to the contrary, that the Latvians keep theirs much tidier.

Next door is the large military cemetery, Bralu Kapi (Brethren Centre). It was designed by the sculptor Karlis Zale as a tribute to the 2,000 soldiers who fell during the two world wars. Beautifully maintained and lined with oaks and sycamores, it is one of the most visited places in the capital. We sit in silence for a few minutes before switching our focus to shopping.